


Working Late

by cinderfell



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Background Percy/Vex, Gen, Humor, Nothing Says Sibling Bonding Like Explosions And Really Stupid Near Death Experiences, Post-Chroma Conclave Timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderfell/pseuds/cinderfell
Summary: Cassandra looks him over from head to toe, her gaze lingering on the parts of his hair where the white has gone a sooty gray. “You’re strangely nonchalant for someone who almost died a minute ago.”He shrugs, dusting himself off. “I’ve almost died a lot.”





	Working Late

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from a tumblr prompt from a while back since i realized i liked this one a lot.

When the smoke clears and the coughing subsides, it’s Cassandra who’s standing in front of him. He doubled over from coughing so it’s her slippers (baby blue; gold lace; birthday gift from Vex) that he sees first. Percy slowly lets his gaze drift up, crossing over the nightgown she wears and the hands on her hips before settling on her stern expression.

“Hello, Cass,” he says, half-choking around her name as he sputters from the smoke still leaking out of his workshop.  


“Hello, Percy,” she says, her tone remarkably even and almost chillingly so.  


He straightens, tries to preserve some of his dignity. “And what brings you to this part of the castle this late at night?”

“Funny,” she says, in a voice that lets him know just how unfunny she thinks this is. “I was about to ask you the same question.”  


“I mean, fairly obvious on my part: my workshop.” He gestures back, his hand faltering as he glances back at the blackened workshop. He clears his throat before turning back to her. “And you?”  


“I was coming down to check if you were still working when the most peculiar thing happened,” she drawls, arms moving to cross in front of her chest. “I heard an explosion and smelled smoke.”  


“That _is_ peculiar,” he agrees.  


“Isn’t it just,” she says flatly.  


“Well, you’ll be happy to know that everything is fine and the damages are just superficial and can be cleaned relatively easily. Fairly uneventful for a chemical explosion.”  


Cassandra looks him over from head to toe, her gaze lingering on the parts of his hair where the white has gone a sooty gray. “You’re strangely nonchalant for someone who almost died a minute ago.”  


He shrugs, dusting himself off. “I’ve almost died a lot.” He pauses, tilts his head to the side and thinks. “Actually, I have died. Twice. Three times if you want to count the necklace.” The last bit is more to himself, a quiet musing.

She gives him a disproving look. “Which is exactly why it would be such a shame if you narrowly avoided death by dragons and whatever else you and your friends have fought only to die in an unfortunate chemical explosion in your own workshop in the middle of the night because of your own foolishness and sleep deprivation.”

“It would be quite an epitaph, though.”  


She rolls her eyes so hard that Percy briefly worries that she’s going to reach out and whack his arm for being a little shit. “Go home, Percy.”

“I _am_ home,” he says defensively, gesturing around at the castle.  


Cassandra is unimpressed. “I’m not stupid, Percival. The only time you’ve slept in this castle in the past couple of weeks was when you passed out on the nearest flat surface from exhaustion.”

He opens his mouth to argue but, well, there’s really nothing to argue about when she’s right, is there?

Cass rolls her eyes again and turns on her heel, making to walk back down the hallway and back to her room.

“Go home, actually sleep for once. I’m sure Vex’ahlia would be glad to know you didn’t die in a horrible explosion.” She spares him another glance over her shoulder. “Perhaps take a bath first so you don’t ruin her sheets. Ruining your girlfriend’s bed with soot and ash is no way to keep the romance alive.”

“Cass!” he protests, but she simply smirks and proceeds to keep walking until she turns the corner and is gone.  



End file.
